


Foundation

by Sagittae



Series: What makes a home? [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Other, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagittae/pseuds/Sagittae
Summary: When Fjord gets poisoned and taken out of commission, the rest of the party has to fill in the gaps while they search for a cure.





	1. Infrastructure

**Author's Note:**

> My very first CR fic and of course it's a trope fic. This is just the start of the “What makes a home?” series. I’m hoping by the end of this each character will have their own fics so stay tuned for that!
> 
> I'm building from the bottom up, so I felt it was appropriate to start with every structure's base: the foundation, which I very much believe Fjord has become since he is essentially their figurehead/ spokesperson. Hope you enjoy!

When they finish yet another battle with some fiend-summoning monstrosity, they’re all a little beat up. Jester has a few bruises forming on the side of her face, Molly is covered in blood (only half of it being his own), and Caleb is unfortunately unconscious on the ground again while Nott is sitting protectively beside him. Beau and Jester both hurry over to the fallen wizard to inspect the damage, while Fjord hangs back. He surveys the area warily, making sure that there’s nothing else that will sneak up on them while they’re trying to recover.

“Fjord!” He heard Jester call. “We need your health potion!”

He moves towards the group, tearing his eyes away from the dark forest that surrounds them. The moment he moves one of his legs, he feels a sting in the wound just above his hip. It’s enough to cause him to hiss and he stops for a second to look down to find a decent sized gash cut through his leathers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Molly walk up to him, also staring at the wound in his side. “That looks nasty.”

Fjord glances up at the tiefling and snorts, “You don’t look too hot yourself.”

Molly rolls his eyes, but there’s his typical humor behind his words. “How flattering.”

With a small chuckle, Fjord continues to move towards the women, ignoring the twinge in his side as he does. He’s already slipping a healing potion out from his pouch when Jester makes her grabby hands gesture at him. “I’m out of spells and we can’t stabilize him right now.”

Nott lets out a small whine at those last words, still hovering over her fallen friend’s form. Beau is knelt beside the goblin and places a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. Now that Fjord is closer, he realizes that Caleb actually doesn’t look too bad, or at least physically. There’s a few scrapes around his temple, but it appears that the damage done to him was more magically inclined.

 _Damn mind benders_ , Fjord thinks back to the horrible pressure that he had felt trying to invade his own head, just barely being able to shake it off.

Jester wastes no more time and snatches the potion from his hand, carefully tipping its contents into the wizard’s mouth. It takes a few moments for the man to come to, but he eventually does. Caleb gasps and it warms Fjord’s heart a bit to hear the sighs of relief that come from everyone in the party. They really had become close over the past couple weeks.

Nott helps Caleb sit up and the man groans from the effort. “How are ya feelin’?” Fjord asks.

“Not good,” was all the wizard had to say, clutching his head that was probably giving him hell at the moment. Still, he turns to Jester and gives her a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The tiefling shakes her head quickly. “It was Fjord’s potion. I just fed it to you.”

Caleb turns his thanks to him instead, but Fjord waves it off. “Don’t mention it. Though, this does mean we should stock up on some more equipment pretty soon. That was the last we had.”

Molly also points out, “And while I love a good stroll through the forest at night, perhaps it would be best if we went back to the inn? We could all do with a bit of rest, I think.”

Beau cringed when she saw the state Molly was in, “Damn, dude, what happened to you?”

“I’m fine. Most of the damage was done by those bloody imps,” Molly said bitterly. “Speaking of which, did anyone get hit by the big ugly worm?”

They all shook their heads, but Fjord had to think back for a moment. He looked down at his side, still oozing blood, but nothing too serious. The battle had been pretty chaotic with the number of imps flying around their heads, so he could have just been nicked by one of them.

“Good, I had hoped not. It reeked of poison.”

Nott gasped, “Poison? Like the imps’?”

“Not quite. Stronger, I think. However, I don’t fancy getting close enough to that body to find out.” Molly jabbed a thumb over in the direction of the dead worm, whose corpse looked more like a pile of bloodied jelly now. Molly must have seen the same sparkle in Jester’s eyes as he did, because he then said, “I don’t think it has anything of value for us.”

“We should be goin’ soon, anyhow,” Fjord said, feeling a bit sorry for his friend as her face fell at the idea that she wouldn’t be getting any loot from this battle. “It’s almost midnight and while they’ve let us go for now, the Crownsguard will most likely still be houndin’ us.”

Jester hopped up onto her feet, sadness already quickly forgotten and a grin spread across her face, “Back to the inn!” In a tone that’s quieter and more apologetic she looks to Molly and him. “I don’t have anymore spells, but I promise to fix you up in the morning, okay?”

The other tiefling is nonchalant in his reply, helping Beau in trying to get Caleb to his feet, “No need. We’ll be mostly healed come morning.”

Fjord agrees, “And I barely got a scratch. I don’t think you should waste-.”

“It’s not a waste.” Everyone freezes at the seriousness in her tone, the lighthearted bubbliness gone. He looks and finds her eyes almost glaring at him. “It’s not.”

“Alright...” Fjord settles, trying to quell his friend’s obvious anger. “Alright, in the morning you can heal us and we’ll spend the rest of the day stocking up and searchin’ for some information. We could all use a break from combat after the day we’ve had.”

This seems to please Jester, or at least enough that she regains her usual cheery smile and moves on to fuss over Caleb’s hair again. Fjord finds himself laughing slightly when he hears her say, “Your hair is so long! Can I braid it for you when we get back?”

“Don’t touch my hair, please.”

They all chatter on their way back to the inn, some more than others. Jester and Nott are rambling about shiny things while Molly and Beau are close behind them, not exactly part of the conversation, but chiming in occasionally. Fjord walks next to Caleb, trying to give the man the space he needs, but also wanting to make sure he was truly well. He had tried to be subtle about it, but it seemed the wizard was too smart for that.

“I’m alright, you know,” Caleb informed him. “I can see you glancing at me, Fjord.”

He can only stammer out something that sounds like an apology. “Er - I - ahem. Just wanted to make sure. That’s the second time you’ve gone unconscious in battle, so…”

The man gives him a sharp look, but it eventually softens. “Thank you. Nott and I… We aren’t used to being in a group. It’s taken us - me - a while to realize that there are others… People who care.”

“It’s what we do. Gotta stick together, ya know?”

The wizard doesn’t respond at first, but later Fjord is sure that he hears Caleb whisper, “Yes, I know…”

They are nearing the edge of the town, its streets and homes quiet in the late night, save for a few inns and pubs that have their lights on. The group hurries on, hoping not to get stopped by any guards on the way back to their temporary home. Fjord winces with every step he takes, the stinging in his side having grown since their fight. A burn has taken its place, causing the pain to flare whenever his foot meets the cobbled stone beneath them.

The hush of the night only accentuates the pounding of blood in his ears and how rough his breathing has become. He tries to stifle it, but attempting it gives him a horrible tickle in his throat. It’s only until he starts sweating that he realizes that something may be terribly wrong. However, he knows the inn is just a few streets down, and there he can just collapse in bed and sleep off whatever it was that was ailing him.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it that far.

Fjord’s side is pulsing with pain now, and getting a full gulp of air has become a difficult task. His legs are moving mechanically, but they feel weighed down with lead. He can’t help but stumble slightly, muttering another apology to Caleb who has taken hold of his arm. There are a couple of worried questions being shot his way, but his head feels stuffed with cotton and the voices are muffled. At this point, Fjord can barely keep his head up to see the concerned looks of the rest of the party. Suddenly too weak to hold up his own weight, his knees buckle and he falls.

And as he does, he thinks he hears the splash of the ocean and smells the tang of saltwater.


	2. Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath and a piece to the puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I meant to upload this a while ago but I had an essay and midterms to deal with and then AO3 was being a pain. Not much happens here, but I needed a transition to go into the next chapter, and it’s always fun to live in Caleb’s head space. Thank you all so much for the positive response in the first chapter! 
> 
> More answers next time! Hope you enjoy!

At first it feels cold — frigid ice seeping into his bones and chilling his blood. It surrounds him with an almost suffocating tightness, causing him to squirm and struggle for breath. It isn’t long before he’s too exhausted to fight back.

_Safe. Safe. You’re safe…_

A voice calls to him, coming from any and all directions, echoing itself repeatedly. The cold suddenly disappears and a warmth washes over him, comfortingly caressing his face and pulling the freezing feeling away from him. He thinks that in the darkness he sees a brief flash of light — the vision of bright yellow and a swirling eye, staring into his soul.

_Safe._

He allows the whispers to lull him into a deeper sleep, just for a few minutes...

_Safe… You’re safe… For now._

* * *

Caleb had tried his best to keep Fjord standing, holding one arm out to help steady him at the very least. However, the shift in weight was too much and he found himself being dragged to the ground. He was able to catch himself on his knees, but the sound of a heavy thump beside him let him know that the other man did not have as light of a fall. When he looked over, his assumption was only confirmed, finding that his friend had landed on his side, limbs limp and ultimately unresponsive.

“Fjord? Fjord!” Caleb tapped the man on the face firmly, trying to raise some kind of response from him, but to no avail. Blank, lifeless eyes were the only thing that answered him — the usual gold of the warlock’s eyes now a dull comparison to its previous state. “Fjord!”

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Fjord?” He hears Jester ramble behind him and suddenly he feels her brush against him, trying to get a closer look at her unconscious friend. Caleb can only watch as she frantically searched for a pulse. “He’s alive but, but… What’s wrong with him?” She turned to him and he sees fear shining in her eyes, all traces of her usual merriment gone.

His mouth opens, but he can’t bring himself to answer her, because he truly does not know. He had only recently been brought back from unconsciousness himself. Still, the imploring look from Jester and the terrifying clenching sensation in his chest has him grasping at any straws he can find. _What happened after the battle?_ He prompted himself. They made their way back to the town, but nothing had happened in between then and now.

The rest of the group joined them and all together they had made something of a semicircle around their fallen ally. Their gaze of worry and confusion is something that he is sure is reflected on his own face. However, just as he is about to speak again, Molly moves forward and takes out one of his blades. They are all protesting and shouting in alarm when the man kneels down beside Fjord and makes a thin slice down the man’s leathers. Nott has even begun to try and pull one of his arms back, but it does little to hinder Molly’s task.

They all watch he parts the armor and lifts up a black vest to reveal an angry wound with black veins spreading from it. The skin around the area itself was a horrible purple shade, while the torn skin appeared almost rotten. Molly growled, “That damn fool.”

Beau, who had been preparing to strike at the tiefling, then leaned forward to inspect the wound further. “What the fuck…? How the hell did he get that?”

Nott shook her head, “That doesn’t look good at all. In fact, it looks a lot like....”

“Poison,” Molly finished bitterly. “I told him that the worm could’ve been poisonous, but he still said nothing. Now there’s a chance that he could die from his stubbornness.” There’s a fury in the showman’s words that rings true to his anger, but also his fear. Caleb could tell that he wasn’t mad at Fjord, really, but more frustrated at the situation.

“Whoa, wait — die?” Beau straightened and her eyes went wide. “Whaddya mean _die_? We’ve dealt with poison before; it’s no big deal! We can spend a bit of time stabilizing him right, Jes?”

The monk turned expectantly to the cleric, but the uncertain way her eyes darted around was something nobody wanted to see. Jester went into everything with little caution and no reservations. Watching the woman bite her lip and hesitate only contributed to the sinking feeling in Caleb’s stomach. His gaze wandered back over to where Fjord lied, his irises glazed over and staring at a sight far beyond them. This was above their heads, he knew that — and so did Jester.

“I can heal him in the morning for sure, I can! Buttttt, I don’t know how much it will help…” She looked down sadly at her friend. Out of all of them, she had known Fjord the longest. She was never afraid to display her affection for the warlock, but Jester wasn’t afraid of much of anything.

Meanwhile, all he felt was terror and guilt churning at his core. He couldn’t help but regret taking the last health potion that the group had. If he hadn’t, the warlock could have used it for his own injuries. But part of Caleb knows better than that. Even if he hadn’t taken the potion, Fjord would have offered it to Molly, or Beau, or anyone and everyone else before himself. That was just how Fjord was, and Caleb would be lying if he didn’t appreciate that about him — no matter how infuriating it was, at the moment.

 _When did that change?_ Caleb can’t help but wonder. He had never realized how much they all relied on Fjord to keep themselves afloat — to keep them grounded. _When did we stop being strangers to one another?_

The wizard dragged a tired hand down his face and sighed. He wasn’t used to being the one that gave the answers. All this time he had been perfectly fine handing that job off to Fjord, letting the other man become their anchor. Having to step into that role was terrifying, but they would get nowhere without a sense of direction. 

“We’ll head back to the inn and get some rest. We can’t do anything for Fjord if we’re exhausted. If anything, we just have to pray — hope— that Jester can heal him in the morning,” Caleb said.

There was a steady silence around them before Molly released a heavy breath and moved forward. Caleb shifted a bit to the side as the man lifted Fjord up into his arms. They all stared wordlessly at the display of strength.

“What? Can’t carry him over my shoulder with a wound like that,” Molly shrugged and nodded towards the gash on Fjord’s exposed chest. The tiefling shifted one of his arms around to better hold his burden. “This may not be the circus, but we still take care of our own.”

Jester seemed to brighten at that and hopped to her feet. “Right! Don’t worry, Fjord! I’ll heal you all better in the morning!” She leaned over and gave her unconscious friend a playful tap on the head.

Beau crossed her arms, “Let’s get outta here, then.”

At that moment, Caleb felt Nott lean into his side, tired and exhausted, but still standing tall. Words could never describe how truly proud he was of the girl — of them both really. They had finally managed to find a group, some place to settle down for a bit. Sure, they were a bit beat up, but they’d slowly recover.

Maybe things would be alright, after all.

* * *

They had been able to quickly maneuver their way back to the Nestled Nook, with Molly carrying the unconscious Fjord and the others simply trying to stay out of his way. Yorda had given them a strange look when they entered, eyes flicking from the half-orc in the tieflings arms to the rest of them that were covered in blood and bruises. After a brief moment, she must have decided that she would rather not know what they had been up to, and didn’t ask any questions while they made their way up the stairs. There was a short discussion on who would stay with Fjord, but that was answered by Molly rolling his eyes and heading to the room he and Fjord had been occupying, before shutting the door behind him.

Caleb figured that all they could really do was stand back and wait until the morning came. With another sigh, he corralled Nott back to their room and started to get settled for the night.

Nott swung her legs off the side of the bed. “Do you really think that Fjord’s going to be okay?” She asked him quietly. Caleb looked over and saw her staring down at a discolored area on the floor, the place where she had accidentally spilled acid.

“I think so,” he answered back. “Are you worried?”

She nods, “I like Fjord. He keeps me and you safe. He doesn’t get mad when I steal things. He’s part of the reason why we even decided to travel together. Him dying… It would be bad for the group.”

That sentence alone had Caleb beginning to muse over some of his own doubts. The whole time they had been walking back with the injured warlock, he couldn’t seem to identify the why the feeling of dread only continued to get worse. He blesses Nott for her simple way of stating it and scolds himself for not realizing it sooner. 

Moving over towards the bed, the cheap mattress dips as he sits beside her. He’s silent for a moment, but then agrees, “You’re right. It would be bad.”

 _The death of anyone in the group would ruin us,_ Caleb thought. _All of us._

Without another word, the two of them get comfortable and wait for sleep. The night was peacefully still; and it was such a strange contrast from just a few hours earlier when they were fighting imps and a giant worm. Caleb’s slowly drifting off into sleep when he hears Nott whisper.

“Jester said she would heal him.” And it sounds more like a reminder — a reassurance — than anything else.

He isn’t sure if she’s speaking to herself when saying this, but he still tells her. “Let us hope, _Spinne_. Let us hope.”

* * *

When Caleb dreams, usually it’s of nothing — or at least nothing important.

But when he feels a cold touch slip around him, he opens his eyes for what feels like the first time ever. Shades of blue and green mixed together to color the world around him. A dull light filtered in from above, causing particles and grains to sparkle around him. Eventually the icy rush of water felt like a warm embrace, and he found that he quite enjoyed floating around.

It seemed like ages before something caught his eye below him. It was a strange shape — a shimmering form. He blinked rapidly, as if doing so would will his eyes to see better.

 _What is it? No, wait,_ who _is it?_ he wondered to himself, unconsciously drifting from his peaceful meditation.

The closer he got to the figure, the darker the ocean seemed to become. The light that had once streamed in from above the waves of water had slowly faded, causing the water around him to turn grey. Shadows crept along the edges of his vision, surrounding him the more and more the further he went. He was nearly at the bottom of the sea floor, spotting forgotten boulders and large pieces of coral littered about. An odd fog covered an area of the sand, but he still pushed on, feeling as though something was drawing him nearer.

The closer he went, the more he allowed his curiosity take over. _Almost there,_ and then Caleb reached towards the veiled mist.

However, as soon as he put a hand forward, he lurched back once he realized what he had touched. The mist had dissolved before his very eyes, revealing a familiar face.

Air bubbles rushed from his open mouth as he tried to speak. _“Fjord!”_

The man had his eyes closed, looking almost peaceful in his strange slumber. Sand and kelp covered most of his body, tangling him in a mess of the sea. His arms and legs were outstretched, but he made no movement, nor did he stir at Caleb’s contact. It was almost as if the ocean floor was slowly consuming him.

Not wasting any time, he swam forward as quickly as he could, but he found that water was trying to enter his lungs whenever he tried to breathe now, as if a switch had just flipped. _No, no, no, I need to reach him!_

Knowing that he was running out of time, he grabbed one of the Fjord’s arms and pulled up, dislodging the sand that had buried part of his upper body. The man still did not wake, his head lolling to the side. Caleb gave another tug, and soon his friend was released from his confinement, the two of them slowly starting to ascend to be above the tide. One arm was batting around furiously in the water, while the other held on firmly to Fjord’s hand.

Caleb was still struggling to drag them both up when he suddenly felt something slice the back of his hand, causing him to release his hold on the other man. He winced and looked down to see that a glowing falchion had appeared in the unconscious man’s hand and wisps of blood oozed from his new cut.

 _Let me help you!_  And Caleb isn’t sure if he is pleading with Fjord or something else. His shout into the abyss is lost in the waves— the action only being useful for forcing more water into his mouth. His lungs were now screaming for air and in one last effort, he flails wildly, trying to reach for Fjord again, only to grasp at nothing. Dread fills him as he is forced to watch the dark shadows of the deep sea reclaim the warlock, drifting further down, down…

The last thing he remembers is a voice echoing in his head.

_He is safe._

_For now._

_Safe._

_Help. Guide._

_Safe._

And as soon as Caleb wakes, he shoots up and starts to cough and sputter for air. Warm salt water dribbles from his lips and he gags at the taste of it. He is almost certain he can hear Nott trying to speak to him, but it takes a few moments for the sound of the sea and the commotion from him vomiting to die down.

Once he is taking in steady breaths, Nott tries again. “—alright? Caleb? I brought Jester!”

He glances up and finds that this is true. The tiefling is standing next to Nott with a pinched, worried look on her face. “Oh, not you, too! Why is everyone puking saltwater? I— Caleb?”

“I’m — I’m fine,” he coughs weakly, the tang of salt still prickling his tongue. “I’ll be alright.” His head is still bowed, his limbs weak and shaky after such a vivid dream. “I need to see Fjord.”

“Caleb, wait…” Nott’s voice sounds small, and it’s enough to grab his attention. When he looks at the girl, all he can see is the glimmer of fear and confusion in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Luckily, Jester has never been one to beat around the bush, but she does pause slightly before asking, “Why do you have Fjord’s falchion?”

He freezes, suddenly aware of the weight in his hand. His eyes quickly dart down to the curved sword, dripping with water and dimming its green glow. For a second, he thinks that he can almost see a bright yellow light in the reflection of the blade.

_Guide. Help._

_Save._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Spinne_ is German for spider. Supposedly.

**Author's Note:**

>  **foundation**  
>     
> 1\. _the lowest load-bearing part of a building, typically below ground level._


End file.
